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17
“Rosalind, you must come out.” Theodosia, now the Marchioness of Haven, blinked at her through the lenses of her spectacles, holding out one gloved hand. “Please. Your mother will descend upon us at any moment. Or Tony might punch my husband. If Granby were here, my brother’s attention might be elsewhere, but as it stands, it is firmly on Haven.”
Rosalind looked down at the spray of flowers in her hand. “You don’t understand.”
“Tony’s dislike? He refers to Haven as ‘the parasite’.”
She shot her cousin a rueful look. “You know that isn’t what I’m speaking of.”
“Ros, out ofeveryonein this church, it is I who understand. I didn’t want to marry Haven. I stomped my feet. Threatened to join Leo in America—”
“When is he coming back?”
“Soon. His last letter was quite cryptic.” She waved the small nosegay she held. “The point is, there are still some days I wonder if I should have just fled to New York, which I imagine you’ve already considered. Though, in your case, I suppose you’d choose the Continent. I didn’t do so, and I don’t regret my decision. Haven is incredibly trying at times, but he does have his moments.” A dreamy look crossed her features.
Dear God. Is that what I look like when I think of Torrington?
The panic thickened in Rosalind’s chest.
“Torrington will grow on you if he hasn’t already.” Theodosia rattled away, assuming she was being helpful. “I quite like him. Half the women in London are cursing you, I’ll warrant.”
Rosalind swallowed back the acrid taste in her mouth. She was terrified.Bloody terrified.
Theodosia took her hand. “My goodness, your fingers are like ice.”
“Do you think Torrington looks healthy?” It seemed to be the only thing she could focus on at the moment.
“What? Of course he does. Torrington is...magnificent. I know you have reservations because he’s older. As both our fathers were.” Theodosia frowned. “And I know Mama didn’t handle the loss of my father very well.”
Cousin Amanda, the strongest woman Rosalind had ever known, had shattered into pieces at the death of Marcus Barrington. She’d become unrecognizable. A pale shadow of the capable force of nature Rosalind had always known her to be.
“Then you burned the cake.” Theodosia paused and looked out the window. “Well, I think my mother’s collapse reminded you—” Her eyes ran toward the ceiling as if searching for the right word. “Makes you feel—that you will be leftbehindby Torrington,” Theodosia said cautiously, “because he is older. And you’ll likely be a widow. Sooner than you wish.” She bit her lip. “Like Cousin Winnie after Lord Richardson’s death—”
“Enough, Theodosia,” Rosalind interrupted. “You have the oddest notions. I’m certain my mother collapsed in relief from no longer having to play nursemaid to my father. Imagine, having to wait on your elderly rake of a husband while your youth is torn from you.”
Theodosia gave her a stricken look. “Oh, Rosalind. I don’t—”
“This is the worst day of my life. I don’t want to wed. No one is listening.” She stared out the window of the tiny room at St. John’s church. Rosalind’s fingers tightened.
“Perhaps you should look at why the idea of marriage seems so abhorrent to you.” Theodosia sat beside her.
“Because I want to bake. Create. You know I want my own establishment. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“You’ve been telling me since we were children you didn’t want a husband. It has only been since Romy became Madame Dupree’s silent partner that you decided to find Pennyfoil.”
“Untrue.”
Theodosia took her hand. “When Romy tried to make a trousseau for one of your dolls, you tore the dresses apart. Do you remember?”
Rosalind felt sick to her stomach. “I merely pointed out none of the dresses were in black.” She pressed a hand to her stomach, to stop the emotions from erupting. “And the colors she chose were terrible. I just want to make pastries. You can’t possibly understand.”
“I suppose not.”
“At the very least, Mother should have allowed me to find a man who appeals to me.”
“Am I to believe Torrington doesn’t hold the least appeal for you? You allowed him to take all sorts of liberties, Rosalind,” Theodosia said quietly. “If you find him so unappealing, what prompted you to do so?”
“He has recipes I want. For Pennyfoil’s. I’m not giving up.” Rosalind narrowed her eyes. “Who told you Torrington took liberties?”
